No Longer
by June Amemiya
Summary: In which Atobe's love for Ryoma is so overwhelming that he no longer knows what to do with the prodigy brat. Is it possible to ever gain the trust back of a person you've betrayed? Perhaps if only anger was easy to manage in the first place. Warning: OOCness.


**Chapter 1: I Hate Him**

I remember my brother once constantly teased me about my height. I was 5 feet then while he was nearing 6. He grabbed my hat and held it as high as he could. I jumped and jumped, but I never got the hat. That feeling was the same feeling I was feeling right now.

Here in my arms lies the most beautiful person on Earth. His delicate figure that I could never stop wanting to hold longer. Those red, cherry lips that begged me to kiss and bite them. He was ethereal, so fucking tempting that I wanted to make him cry so badly in bed. But, I knew that wouldn't happen.

Right now, he lies in my arms shaking so heavily, trembling so violently, while I am merely watching over him. In my king-size bed covered in down feather pillows and Egyptian cotton blankets, my beautiful shivers in pain as I hold him tighter. The weather isn't cold. The night sky isn't so grim or foreboding that I could feel there would even be a reason to be scared.

He should not be feeling scared right now. In my arms, he should be feeling comfort. In my arms, he should be feeling safe. Yet, here he was, itching for me to pull away from him. His cries become louder. He's starting to shake even more violently. I hold him tighter, but he tries to pull away from me even more.

What's the matter though? This was the question I constantly asked myself. What have I done that was so goddam detestable, so fucking wrong that he no longer feels love with me? I've loved him so much. I'd give the whole world for him. He should be happy that someone like me was even doting on someone like him.

He should feel lucky that I was even giving him the time of my day and night. He should be thankful that he is in this current position, in my arms, which many others would kill for. He now has everything anyone would want in this world: a handsome lover that provided him with whatever he wanted.

If he asked for the sun, I would give it to him. Whatever he wanted, he had, but right now, he couldn't stop crying. It pissed the fuck out of me. What was his problem? Why couldn't he just see that I'm right there, trying to get him to feel better again?

His cries became even louder. He starts shrieking. He hits me, punches me, scratches me, then kicks me. Goddam it. I knew I had to do something. There were lots of things I could do – I could more soothe him with a gentle voice and tell him everything was okay, but I knew that wouldn't work. Right now, next to me, was a boy who would no longer listen to pure reasoning.

I go on top of him and hold him down. I tighten my hold on his wrist. He tries kicking me again, so I tie his feet to the bed post. His eyes look up to me, even more scared than before. I smirk. He has never been so scared of me. He has always looked down on me, calling me Monkey King.

This time, he couldn't. He tries to utter a word, but his vocal chords fail him. I lean down and kiss him. My tongue explores every inch of his mouth savering the grape soda taste that was so uniquely his. His breaths start to shorten. I didn't care though.

I moved on. My hands start ripping his clothes off, and I start biting that beautiful white skin of his. His creamy skin was so fucking delicious. God, I wanted more. His pink nipples tempt me. They show delicate skin that had never been explored (even though I knew that wasn't the case as the first and only explorer of it was yours truly). I start playing with his nipples.

_Ah! S-s-s-stop it, Atobe!_

His cries don't affect me anymore though. I could feel his tears dripping down some more. I lick them, all those fucking salty tears of his. I then proceed to pull his pants away.

That manhood of his stood firm and tall and overflowing with his white juice. The sweet juice that I sucked all away from him. I wanted more and more of him.

I start fingering him, preparing him for the ultimate course. His hole is tight as usual, but that was what made it all the more pleasurable. That tight little hole made my penis even more excited. His hole started opening some more. I put on some lube and slid my manhood in that hole of his.

I penetrate him deeper and deeper. It felt fucking amazing. He tries to cover his face, but I already knew how he felt. I already knew his face was blushing tomato red from all the pleasure he was certainly feeling right now. His cries became cries of pleasure, pleasure that only I could bestow on him.

"Uncover your face," I say.

"Fuck you, Atobe!" he yells back at me. He spits on my face. Normally, I would've ignored him. Normally, I would've let it off because he was my lover. Normally, I wouldn't roar at him or hit him.

But that was all if our current relationship was the same as before where we would love each other. I knew he didn't love me though. A real lover wouldn't curse at you or spit at you.

I slapped him and pulled out as I finally climaxed with him.

"What the hell is your problem?" I ask him.

He doesn't reply. Instead, he sits up after I untie his feet from the bedpost. My semen was flowing out of his asshole, but his figure still looked so desolate. I could only see his back as he faced away from me, so I try to turn him to face me so that I could see his face, and when I did, I noticed his expression looked dead.

"You. You're my problem," he says.

Three months ago, we had a loving relationship. He'd still tease me and call me Monkey King. He'd still come up to me and kiss me as I held him tightly in my arms. He would've never cursed at me or spat at me. We would've still been so loving together if it weren't for that one day.

Everything changes so damn easy. He was being a big pussy for even caring that much about that one day. It didn't even feel like anything big, but he still kept getting mad at me for it. He still kept trying to avoid me. I wouldn't allow it though. I will never let him leave me.

He belonged to me and fucking me only. No one could have him except me. I didn't want him to never be with me again, so I did what logically anyone would do. I locked him up in a cage that no one could ever enter.

He stares at me, this time with passionate anger.

"I hate you so fucking much," he says, this time his voice becoming sharper. "You said you loved me."

"I do love you and I always will."

"Yeah, well, you're one shitty liar."

"Better than someone who still won't forgive me for three months already for something that I never actually happened."

"Never actually happened? I saw you with that girl. I saw you two kiss. I saw you two make out. I heard what you said about me."

"What? That I loved you and only you?"

"Yeah fucking right. Go to hell."

He sleeps on the floor. I whisper my words of love to him again, but he glares at me then sleeps. I hear his cries again. He cried every night.

I knew the real reason behind Ryoma's fear and hatred towards me though. I knew that what I really did that made him this fearful of me wasn't that I was with another girl. I did one of the worst things ever three months ago.

I stabbed him, close to death. He never consciously knew that it was I who stabbed him, but the real executer of the crime was I. No amount of love could ever really make up for what I did.


End file.
